This week’s prompt was: take a snapshot of poetry. I did my usual snapshot poem yesterday, but I also found this:

This is just what I pictured, when I named this blog: the ephemeral nature of poetry, of writing — of everything, actually. We work, and write, and post — and no matter how long it lasts, that lasting is brief. We catch a moment, and it’s gone in a moment.

I didn’t  check the dictionary defintions before choosing, but it works even better than I had imagined:

1. a mark which is made on some types of paper during its production which can only be seen if it is held against the light;
2. a mark showing the highest or lowest level that a river or the sea reaches

Of course, I’ve been thinking about writing a lot lately, with NaNoWriMo pushing me to my expository limits. Yesterday, facing a blank wall, I realized I could read the next chapter of the book:

If you still don’t know what your characters are doing in your book, Week Two is the point when you should panic.

Hee hee.

Just kidding.

Having a shaky, hazy, or problematic plot heading into Week Two is absolutely fine, and is a predicament common to many month-long novelists. . .

So, I feel better. Still lost, but better.

[Tuesday:  1371 words. Yesterday: 781 words. So far: 22854 words.] I know you folks must be getting bored with this, but I kept losing track — so this is for me, not you.

Wave via The Generator Blog.